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HAHAHAHA!!! http://www.newyorker.com/shouts/content/?040913sh_shouts July 7, 2004—I didn’t want it to happen. I didn’t see it coming. I’m a husband. I’m a father. I’m the President of the United States of America. I’m freedom’s go-to guy. But today, while I was watching one of my ads, that spot attacking him for being all flippity-floppity on Iraq, I realized, beyond a shadow of a doubt: Oh, my God, I’m in love with John Kerry.
July 11, 2004—I couldn’t keep it to myself, not one second longer. I had to tell someone I trusted absolutely, someone whoI thought just might understand—Rumsfeld. I said, “Don, I have something to tell you. Something powerful. Something true. I’m madly, hopelessly, soul-quiveringly in love with John Kerry.” He stared at me. Had I made a terrible mistake? And then he grasped my forearm and whispered, in that low, husky, irresistibly ruthless voice, “Mr. President—you, too?”
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